The Boy With The Bread
by KittKatt Mellark
Summary: this is The Hunger Games from Peeta's point of view. please leave reviews so I can write the rest of the chapters quicker!
1. The Boy With The Bread

Reaping day. The day that every family fears. The day that two families are told that their child will have to fight against twenty three other brutal children. The day that 2 families will have to accept their Childs near death.

I wake up on reaping day and everything suddenly feels more dismal. Misery lurks in the air everywhere on this day, just like it does every reaping. I slide my feet onto the cold floorboards, and quietly scatter down the stairs into the kitchen.

The kitchen is always like a tropical country as all the ovens tend to be on full blast for most of the day, cooking all sorts of breads and patisseries. 4 ovens take up the whole of the right wall; enough to bake 20 loafs at once. The counter next to them is made up of 2 cupboards and a tiny sink. In the middle stands are oak dining table, a luxury for are district. My mother leans against the table, mopping her brow with a grey tea towel.

'Showered yet?' she says gruffly

'No' I mumbled back, 'isn't dad in there?'

'no, we went to get flour about half an hour ago, mind you he should be back soon, so make sure you've out before her gets back, he finds Reapings very agitating, so don't get in his way?

'_Doesn't everyone!' _I thought to myself. I trudged into the bathroom, annoyed by my mother's remark.

'Your brothers went out early! So you won't see them till after the Reaping!' she shouted after me, but didn't bother to reply.

I let the cold, running water splash onto my face, stimulating my senses and blowing off the cobwebs in my mind. Most days I would spend the time in the shower day dreaming, the hurriedly washing my body before my family could shout at me for wasting water, but today I take extra care on cleaning myself, so I would look presentable if I got picked today.

I shut off the water, grab a towel and hurried back to my room. On my bed my mother had laid out some black, straight legged trousers and a white short sleeved shirt. Both had not a single crease or speck of dirt on them.

'_Typical mother.' _ I thought to myself.

As I dressed, I made sure every button was done up correctly, and that no creases we folded in to either piece of clothing. I slipped on my leather boots that I wear to every reaping and stomped downstairs.

'Could you be any louder!' my mum snapped at me as I walked into the kitchen. I noticed that all of the ovens had been turned off and that the kitchen was surprisingly cold.

'Why are all of the ovens off?' I asked her curiously. Usually we leave the bread to bake whilst the reaping ceremony takes place.

'Because your farther didn't get enough flour!' she said angrily 'now come over here and let me comb your hair.'

As she combed my hair I noticed that she looked like something was worrying her. I doubt that it was the fact that it was Reaping Day, because most years she is her usual miserable self, but I dared not say anything.

When she finished she stepped back, sighed and place her hand on my shoulders 'I love you Peeta' she said shakily.

Loves me? I have never heard her utter the words before! Something must surely be wrong, but I can't ask her, it'd probably just upset her more.

'I love you too' I said back, without really thinking about what the words meant.

'You better get going, the reaping starts in half an hour' she said with a half smile, 'Go on, see you after the reaping for the celebrations'

'Yeah' I replied. 'See you'

I got to the reaping just in time; I was one of the last few to sign in. I made my way over to the section rope off for the 16 year olds. I joined my row and scanned the crowd. It didn't take long to find who I was looking for.

Katniss Everdeen stood there looking more stunning than ever. Her dark hair was braided up her head, just how she had it last reaping, and she was wearing the most beautiful ocean blue dress that fell just above her knees. I could see her seam grey eyes searching the crowds too. She meets my gaze for a split second, but it was enough to send my heart racing. She stopped searching the crowds and I followed her gaze.

'_Oh god.'_ I thought when I saw whom she had been searching for.

Gale Hawthorne. Gale is Katniss' best friend, but everyone knows he's madly in love with her –well everyone _except _Katniss. They spend all their time together, so the odds aren't ever in my favour when it comes to who she will love, she doesn't even know I exist.

I jumped when the mayors droning voice spoke.

'It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks' he goes on and lists the districts victors. In seventy-four years, district 12 have had a measly two victors, and only one is still alive: Haymitch Abernathy, a paunchy, middle-aged man who at this moment is staggering onto the stage hollowing out something unintelligible, then he falls into his chair.

'_Drunk again. No wonder we haven't had any winners since he's victory, never sober enough to mentor anyone.' _I thought to myself.

Effie Trinket trots up to the podium in so ridiculously high heeled shoes, but still as bubbly as ever.

'Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever _ in your favour' she says with a horrifically wide smile. She went on for a bit then caught everyone's attention from squeaking in such a high pitched voice that even dolphins could have heard it and said:

'Ladies First!' she squealed and plunges her hand into the glass orb.

I held my breath. There are thousands of slips of paper. The chances of Katniss' name being pulled out are next to none, so I should be worrying.

But the name Effie squeaked out worse than any name getting called out, but it wasn't Katniss'.

The name belonged to Primrose Everdeen, Katniss' younger sister.


	2. The Justice Building

I felt my heart stop. This couldn't be real. This was Prim's first year, surely she couldn't be picked! I saw people shuffling out of the way in the 12 year old sector, and I heard some tuts from the peacekeepers. They All find it unfair when a 12 year old gets picked, not a single one has ever one. I could see Katniss moving a few rows ahead of me, she ran out up to Prim, shouting her name on the way. Two peacekeepers stopped her in her tracks, trying to push her back into line, she was still screaming for her sister.

She shrugged them off and shouted out:

'I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!'

The whole square fell silent as she ran up to Prim.

'Lovely!' says Effie. 'But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one doesn't come forward then we, um..' She trailed off.

'What does it matter?' says the mayor with a pained expression. 'What does it matter? Let her come forward.'

Prim was screaming hysterically at this point screaming out 'No Katniss! No! You can't go!'

'Prim, let go' Katniss said harshly, but you could hear the panic in her voice. 'Let go!'

Gale ran up behind Prim, yanking her away from Katniss. He muttered something to her and walked away with prim screaming over his shoulder.

'Well bravo!' says Effie. All the attention turns back to her, except a few bewildered faces, probably friends of the Everdeen's.

'That's the spirit of the games!'

I and a few others cringed at Effie's words.

'What's your name?' she asked sweetly.

'Katniss Everdeen' she replied bluntly

'I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want to steal her glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!' trills Effie Trinket.

In almost perfect synchronisation every person in the square put 3 fingers to their lips and raised them in the air. It's a sign of respect here in district 12 that is very rarely used. It is a sign of admiration, it means goodbye to someone you love. A ghost of a smile appeared on the mayor's face.

Next to him Haymitch staggers up to Katniss to congratulate her.

'Look at her. Look at this one!' he hollers, swinging his arm around her 'I like her! Lots of... Spunk! More than you!' he points into the crowd and then directly at the camera.

'And you!' he splutters before falling off the stage, unconscious.

'What an exciting day!' Effie says before quickly changing the subject back to the tributes.

'But one more excitement to come! It's time to choose are boy tribute!'

Her hand dives into the bowl fishing out a piece of paper. She trots back to the podium and calls out the name:

'Peeta Mellark!'

My name rings in my ears; it didn't take long for me to register it. I am going into the Hunger Games against the girl I love. The girl I would give anything for. The odds really aren't in my favour today.

People start clearing a path for me, and I move slowly towards the podium. I could feel the tears rolling down my checks before I knew I was crying. But I tried to pull myself together. It was working – for now.

I walked up onto the stage where Effie Trinket grabbed my hand and stood me next to Katniss. I scanned the crowd for my family, but failed to find a single member of my family.

The mayor says another dreary speech and motions for me and Katniss to shake hands. As are skins touched I felt like I had fell in love with her all over again. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze but I think it felt more like a nervous spasm. The anthem played and then we were escorted into the Justice building. Katniss was taken into a room on the left and me into the room on the right.


End file.
